30 minutes
"Remind me why I'm doing this, Tseng."
The Turk laughed softly under his breath, the sound trickling like water despite the staggering tension that encompassed the hotel room's aura. Time had ticked forward, counting down to a day elegantly printed in raised type on eggshell colored announcements. And as it flowed, Tseng could notice more and more, a sense of nervousness that he supposed any man in Rufus' situation would face. Though, Rufus would never admit it.
Never. Not ever.
Because Rufus Shinra didn't get nervous.
But not even as best man did Tseng prove to be at all that... comforting. Instead he casually smoothed out the black material of his tuxedo and smirked, "I believe you said something about being in love with Tifa Lockheart." His voice was laced with a certain degree of playful mocking. Rufus hadn't used those words... exactly. The fact of the matter was -- Rufus hadn't really explained much to the stoic head of Turks at all. But Tseng was well seasoned in the art of investigation... in seeing truths hidden between the often murk-laden lines... Of the subtle nuances of Rufus Shinra's many layered personality. He had known him far too long. Too long for something as trivial as the soundlessness of an internal monologue to stop him from understanding what the hell Shinra's president was thinking.
It may not have been his job per se to know these things...
But Tseng always liked being well versed in all the gossip.
15 minutes
"I told you not to do it, Reno."
The redhead scowled, storming away from newly slammed double doors and passing his friend in a huff. Sure Rude had said not to enter that room, but who was he to listen? This kind of crap wasn't anything that Reno was remotely interested in. Weddings. Formality. A tuxedo barely put together, shirt untucked and tie -- though worn, slung around his neck like a child had tied it. In the dark. But it wasn't as if he could say no. Not to an event like this. Not to mention that something could happen.
...Other than Elena bitching that he was going to get into the cake or the booze and destroy the reception and in turn destroy the marriage and... This was all chick stuff. Reno wanted out. But even the local bar was closed and apparently this was his job. So he was stuck. And really he had been on his best behavior. Really.
"Didn't do nuthin.'"
Rude gave him a knowing look, eyebrow raised behind dark shades.
"Then explain why there are four-point shuriken embedded in the wall here."
"Wasn't my fault the ninja chick was gettin' dressed. I was just sayin' hi to Elena."
But the other Turk wasn't so sure that anything could be quite that... innocent and accidental when it came to Reno. He sighed and looked down at this watch. "Better go and tell the President that it's almost time."
10 minutes
Rufus stared at his reflection in the mirror, eyes flashing a barely recognizable sense of muted panic, matching his frayed nerves. Which... in turn matched the slightly pathetic mess he was making of his tie. Pulling, turning, folding in. Rufus generally wasn't one for ties just as he wasn't one for patience. But he wasn't nervous. No. He was just... distracted. It was a big day, after all.
He had a feeling that quitting smoking before the wedding had been asking for trouble. He should have waited. Perhaps not gone cold turkey. Perhaps not quit at all. It was all a big mistake. Maybe this was all a big mistake. What was he doing?
"You don't suppose it's too late to opt for one of those common-law arrangements they do in Kalm, do you?"
He pulled on the tie one more time in desperation only to have the item grabbed casually from his slightly shaky grip. Tseng apparently wanted to speed up the process. Or perhaps he was just tired of watching him fight a losing battle with an inanimate object. Either way, it seemed to break Rufus from seconds worth of silent, internal flailing. "You know as well as I do that a common-law marriage would look bad in the tabloids."
Rufus rolled his eyes but said nothing. He could consider the tabloids as idiotic and low class as he wanted, but that didn't change the fact that they still held some sway in the eyes of the general public.
"Not to mention Tifa would most likely take offense." Tseng paused. "And weren't you always of the mind that Kalm was full of backwater hippies?"
"Yokels. Cosmo is full of hippies."
"Ah, yes. How could anyone forget about the hippies in Cosmo?" He squinted thoughtfully as he tightened the tie. "There. I do believe you are now all put together, sir."
Rufus turned toward the mirror with a sigh, giving himself another glance-over. He looked... odd to say the least. White had always been his color of choice. Sure it had been accented with grey and black but never overshadowed. And sure enough, there he stood, no longer wearing his normal layers of white, but an elegant black tuxedo. Like a photograph in negative... Everything reversed. Nauseatingly bizarre.
He briefly wondered if Tifa, too was in the same predicament. Did she have that strange, acidic feeling in the pit of her stomach? Was she having second thoughts at all? Feeling out of her element wearing all of that white? Oh, she wore other colors but black almost seemed like a second skin to her...
He didn't even want to get into all the things that could go wrong. Assassination attempts. There were dragons in the region. What if he forgot his vows? And they had clashed over everything from day one. Their personalities were just too different in some aspects and too similar in others. She was stubborn. He was stubborn. Compromise was difficult. He didn't want the ceremony to be held in Nibelheim. Perhaps he should have caved on the flavor and style of the cake in favor of having it somewhere else. He wasn't sure where, but somewhere.
...That would have been selfish. He held no personal ties anywhere.
Rufus sighed. He didn't want to give her up. It was so hard to say no to her. This was all such a big mistake.
What must she have been thinking to have said yes? What was she thinking at all?
He would certainly have felt less like an idiot if he had any inkling what she was going through. If it was anything like how he was feeling.
Damned feelings.
"Hey, someone break the prez?"
They both turned to address the sudden intrusion. Rufus, though jumpy, somehow managed to reconstruct his general facade of icy impassivity. The Turk had been missing for quite some time. Tseng had expressed a rather realistic fear that he had gotten into the reception's liquor stash, which Rufus had in turn added onto his growing list of "Things That Could Inevitably Go Wrong." It was a somewhat relief to find the redhead leaning against the door frame, slouched and disheveled, yet surprisingly sober.
"I got bored. Figured I'd see if you were shitting bricks, yet. Since time is runnin' out."
Rufus glanced up at the clock, then back at him. "I find that hard to believe. It sounds too mundane. Innocent... Sane." A pause. "I am most certainly not shitting bricks."
Tseng made a sound as if to say differently before finding something very interesting on the other side of the room. Away from the glaring president.
"Lockheart looks nice though, chief. Not shitting bricks like you... Aren't." Reno grinned wickedly, playing with a pack of cigarettes that had been neatly stowed away. "So whats it now? Ten more minutes and you'll haveta be out there? Should be interesting to be in front of all those people but not be talking about some big corporate bullshit. Just you and Lockheart and all them cameras and--"
And that was precisely when Rufus bolted from his spot by the mirror to the nearest bathroom, leaving a confused Tseng, and vaguely hearing Reno ramble on and on about paparazzi and questioning why Cloud Strife wasn't Tifa's maid of honor. But it was all lost along with his breakfast and -- Rufus... couldn't remember eating that.
And soon enough time was up and two of Shinra's finest were dragging off their not nervous president who wasn't shitting bricks. It was now or never and someone like Tifa Lockheart could do serious, scary things when provoked. ...And no matter how much he gargled, Rufus could not get that rancid taste out of his mouth, adding that to the list of "Things That Have Already Gone Wrong" and dreading the ever inevitable "You may kiss the bride."
Some way to start something wonderful.